


Can't Get No Relief, Lord

by BambiRex



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Crying, F/F, Freddie Mercury Weekend 2020, Genderbending, Homophobic Language, I don't know what else to tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Lesbophobia, Lesbophobia, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Self-Hatred, Slurs, fem!queen, freddie was a gay man and here she is a lesbian, i know i know please don't kill me, just read with caution please and thank you, lesbophobic slurs, seriously there are a lot of slurs, set in the 60s, so please watch out for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24552388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BambiRex/pseuds/BambiRex
Summary: You know, the boyfriend you’re supposed to be in love with. The one that you should lust after.And yet, no matter how she tried to will her body to respond accordingly, it just never did- and Heaven knows, she tried. She kept trying, all the fucking time, to feel something that was never there, and Freddie could have screamed in frustration as her body betrayed her, over and over again, refusing to bend to her will. It punished her for her sinful thoughts, but it also resisted when Freddie was trying to lead it down the right path. It was the cycle of eternal doom, feeling sick of herself but never managing to control it.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 21
Collections: Freddie Mercury Weekend 2020!





	Can't Get No Relief, Lord

**Author's Note:**

> I never would have thought I would end up writing something like this, but here I am. I would like to note that I am a lesbian, before anyone would accuse me of being lesbophobic (i mean, you can never know. The internet is a wild place). Also, I know that I'm on a slippery slope here, because why make it genderbent, am I right? Well, the answer is simple: I'm a lesbian who always writes genderbent stories, and I felt like I could give this story a new angle through the lense of that AU.
> 
> I know exactly, that homophobia towards gay men was even more rampant than towards gay women back then, so please, let's not make this into a contest. I just wanted to explore Freddie dealing with internalized homophobia, and ''translate" it to lesbian. Also, I guess this was a nice way to let go of all the remaining morsels of internalized lesbophobia i sometimes still deal with.
> 
> I also did research on lesbophobia in the 60s, and us being excluded from feminism and labeled as sluts was unfortunately a real thing, so hey, I did my history lesson.
> 
> I also used a direct quote from Rosemary's book, but probably everyone will notice that! :D

_The girl was pretty, with long blonde hair and tanned skin, her eyes dark and her smile wicked as she placed a hand on her thigh, the gentle touch sending sparks racing up her spine, her skin breaking out into goosebumps. The contact wasn’t more than a tickle of a feather, something you could barely feel, but it was enough for her to burn up._

_From what? Shame? Desire?_

_Both?_

_’’You’re nervous.” The girl stated, her voice deep and distant, as if it was coming from under water. Or maybe it was coming straight from Hell, where she belonged, where she was banished after people found out that she was…_

_She opened her mouth to say something, to tell her that they had to stop this, because it wasn’t normal, that it would get the both of them into trouble, that they should push those thoughts back into the farest corner of their brains where they would remain to collect dust for eternity, never seeing the light of day again. As it should be. Those thoughts would only bring their demise._

_Why was it so hard then, to get rid of them? Why couldn’t she stop the girl, grab her wrist and scream into her face, beg for her not to beckon those sinful thoughts up to the surface, just leave them be, just let them fade away with time? Don’t fuel my fire, please. Just dump icy water all over it until it completely flickers out, because I hate the burn for feeling so good._

_She did nothing of the sort. She tilted her head back and parted her lips for the forbidden fruit, let her thighs fall open for the dangerous touch, the one that would blow her old world away like a mere pile of leaves, the one that would slam a door closed and open up a window, the one that would change everything. The touch she so desperately craved, even though she wasn’t allowed to._

_’’I knew you would like that,” the girl husked, her breath warm against her face, and her hand searing hot between her legs,_

_’’you filthy, filthy dyke.”_

Her pyjama top clung to her skin with cold sweat, and Freddie shivered. She hated waking up like that, like all the strength was sucked out of her muscles; she felt weak, near feverish, her body protesting her heated brain, as if to say ’see? This is what you get for thinking of those things.’

Fair enough.

She groaned and dragged the heel of her hand over her eyes, swearing internally when her skin became damp with tears. She didn’t even notice she was crying. That was a new low. She was used to waking up and feeling like she was going to be sick after a dream like that, but so far, no tears had happened. God, she was such a miserable mess.

Her body tensed up when she felt the hand between her legs again, just very lightly rubbing her through her shorts, and reality came crashing down. This was not a girl, a seductive blonde with a wicked tongue and clever fingers that could cause her entire world to collapse, but her boyfriend, snuggling up to her back and trying to make her body work the way it was supposed to.

_You know, the boyfriend you’re supposed to be in love with. The one that you should lust after._

And yet, no matter how she tried to will her body to respond accordingly, it just never did- and Heaven knows, she tried. She kept trying, all the fucking time, to feel something that was never there, and Freddie could have screamed in frustration as her body betrayed her, over and over again, refusing to bend to her will. It punished her for her sinful thoughts, but it also resisted when Freddie was trying to lead it down the right path. It was the cycle of eternal doom, feeling sick of herself but never managing to control it.

’’Hey.” Robbie said softly, nuzzling at her neck. His hand finally stopped, and Freddie breathed a sigh of relief.

’’You okay?”

Quite a loaded question. Was she? No, she wasn’t. Of course she wasn’t. And Robbie knew that- he knew that better than anyone else. He had to listen to his girlfriend breaking down over the realization, that she would never, ever be able to return his feelings the way he wanted them to. Because she wasn’t wired that way. Because I’m wired the wrong fucking way, Freddie thought bitterly. She couldn’t love Robbie like that, because he didn’t have dainty hands with long fingers that could touch oh-so gently, didn’t have plump lips that fitted so well with her own, soft, supple breasts and the gentle curve of hips, a lithe body that was so similar to her own, moulding against hers perfectly. He was all hard edges and calloused skin, with flat hips and a broad chest, and it just didn’t feel right.

He wasn’t what Freddie wanted, he could never be, and Freddie hated herself for not being able to want him.

He was more understanding than Freddie thought he would be. He expected him to shout, to slap her like she deserved, call her disgusting and throw her stuff out the window. ’Go, and be with your nasty people.’ 

She expected him to tell all their classmates, until she became the constant target of endless ridicule.

Little Fareeda who tried to kiss another girl, and so the headmistress yanked her around by the hair in front of everyone, before she spanked her with a wooden spoon. 

The red handprint on her cheek when she asked her mother why girls couldn’t marry girls, and boys couldn’t marry boys, so innocent, not yet knowing what she was talking about. 

A drunken boy snickering ’’fucking sluts”, when two girls started making out at a party as a dare. The cheers and the wolf-whistling. ’’Lesbians are kinda’ hot and disgusting at the same time, don’t you think? Like, more tits, am I right? But I don’t want that shit on the streets. I might jerk off watching them do their nasty shit behind closed doors, but if they do it in broad daylight, in front of the fucking kids? Oh, man. Then they are no better than those faggots.”

The women’s rights movements frowning when the lesbians tried to join them on their marches. ’’You are just like the men. Not real women. Dykes. Bulldykes. Nasty carpet munchers, you don’t belong in feminist places!”

Freddie Bulsara, who, despite dating the most handsome boy in her class, was still whining after other women like a damn, kicked dog.

_So nasty._

And yet, Robbie understood her. Or, at least he tried. ’’Maybe we could work something out?” He asked all the time. ’’Maybe it could pass, you know? Maybe it’s not permanent.”

Freddie wished it wasn’t. She wished it was just a mere flu, cured by thorough care, medication and some tea.

But as much as she kept hoping, praying that it wouldn’t last, she knew, deep down, that it’s not something that would ever leave.

So, Robbie kept trying. He didn’t break up with Freddie, because he still hoped that somehow, Freddie would fall in love with him properly. Freddie felt terribly sorry for him, because she knew it wouldn’t work. She was broken, and no one could fix her, not Robbie, not anyone else.

’’I’m okay.” Freddie breathed, forcing a slight smile onto her face. Robbie hummed, leaning in to kiss over her neck, and Freddie closed her eyes, concentrating so hard her brain ached with it.

_Come on, this is good. Can you feel it? He’s a man, and he’s making you feel good. That’s his job. And yours is to enjoy it._

The hand returned between her legs, and Freddie drew in a sharp breath. She cracked one eye open to see Robbie watching her intently.

’’Do you want it?” He asked, and Freddie’s stomach twisted. She didn’t, but she had to. She should at least try to make him feel good, right? If she was so miserably fucked up, at least he should have some fun. She should probably be thankful that she wasn’t sporting a black eye and a split lip, considering what Robbie knew about her.

’’Yes.” She lied, and Robbie pulled back, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown. He raised a hand and cupped Freddie’s cheek, running his thumb across her cheekbone. ’’Are you sure?” He asked, his voice tinged with concern.

’’We don’t have to.”

’’Yes, we do!” Freddie blurted out. She suddenly realized how that sounded, and she swallowed thickly, shaking her head. ’’I mean...I want to. Please.”

Robbie watched her face for a while, but then he smiled, seemingly reassured by Freddie’s words, and he leaned in for a kiss.

That was never too bad. She didn’t really feel excited, per se, didn’t see fireworks and all those things other girls kept mentioning when they talked about kissing their boyfriends. But it wasn’t too terrible. Whenever they kissed, there was a slight slimmer of hope flaring inside her brain, that it meant something: she didn’t feel so awful while doing it, so that must have mattered, right? That must have meant she wasn’t a… that she wasn’t like that. During those kisses, Freddie always hoped for her body to wake up, for her heart to feel.

But then came the sex, and all hope flew out the window.

Robbie wasn’t a bad lover, by all means. He never ignored foreplay, and he was thorough and gentle. It really wasn’t his fault that Freddie never had an orgasm, or that she couldn’t get wet enough for it to be comfortable. He really tried everything, to no avail- Freddie was the reason it never worked.

Freddie squeezed her eyes shut, her body tensing up against the intrusion. She kept telling her body to warm up already, to succumb to the feeling, to enjoy it, to experience the same burn that she felt when…

A familiar smirk appeared behind her eyelids. Blonde locks, dark eyes, temptation on two legs. Two slender, nimble fingers pumping in and out of her slowly, plump lips kissing over her chest and a tongue sneaking out to flick her nipples. A beautiful girl, giving her the pleasure that she wasn’t allowed to receive, the pleasure she was starving for. 

The pleasure that only another woman could give her.

She could feel her body finally, finally working- she got wet, her skin broke out in delighted goosebumps, and a little moan left her lips.

Except, this wasn’t right. This was so much worse than laying back and taking something she couldn’t find enjoyement in. Her body only came to life, because she imagined a woman fucking her. She only became aroused, because her treacherous brain replaced Robbie with a woman. That, in itself, was the final proof that truly no one was able to help her; she was doomed for good.

’’Stop,” she choked out, the words falling out without her permission, much like the tears that made steady tracks down her cheeks quickly. ’’Please, stop!”

Robbie immediately pulled out, his eyes wide with panic. Freddie could barely see his face through the tears blurrying her vision.

’’Did I hurt you?” Robbie asked, his voice full of worry. He tried to touch Freddie, but she flinched out of the way of his hand, wanting to get away. She didn’t deserve that gentleness, she didn’t deserve anything.

She only deserved that hellfire that everyone was talking about, the one that was awaiting her kind.

’’I can’t,” Freddie whimpered, curling in on herself, her body shaking with violent sobs. ’’I can’t, I am so sorry, I…”

Robbie sighed, sitting back on his haunches to look down at her. Freddie averted her gaze, not able to meet his eyes.

’’Freddie, is this your…what am I doing wrong?”

Freddie shook her head with a loud snifle, hugging a pillow close to her chest. The only person that was doing something wrong here, was herself.

’’Nothing.” Freddie whispered, her voice terribly shaky. ’’I swear, I just…I can’t stop thinking about…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. It would have been like admitting the final defeat. Robbie knew, but they haven’t really spoken about this since her big confession a few weeks prior, not explicitly, at least. Saying that out loud again was a low blow, for the both of them.

’’Other women.” Robbie finished it for her, and Freddie shivered at his words. He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed. He tried again, and he failed, because his girlfriend was an awful mess.

Freddie sat up against the headboard, pulling the duvet up to her neck. She still couldn’t look him in the eye.

’’I can’t…” she whispered again, fresh tears clinging to her lashes as the dreaded words ripped out from her chest, bubbling to the surface before she had the chance to silence herself. ’’I’m just…strung out in the middle of it...you’re the only one who really knows about this side of me, and what I go through all the time…it’s such…agony…everyone thinks my needs are a joke, a fiction.”

She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the desperate sobs. Her stomach churned, and for a second she was worried she would throw up. She heard Robbie let out another sigh, and her heart clenched painfully.

’’You…look, I get it, but…I would really appreciate it if you stopped talking about, erm…” He scratched the back of his neck, and Freddie shrunk even smaller.

’’…having sex with other birds.” Robbie finished, biting his lip. Freddie drew her knees up to her chest, folding herself away, wanting nothing more than to disappear forever. It would have been better for everyone, most of all, for herself.

’’Can you imagine how that makes me feel?” Robbie continued. He sounded so wounded, Freddie couldn’t fight back another wave of tears.

’’I’m so sorry.” Freddie whispered, and she meant it: she wished she wasn’t so terribly fucked-up, that she knew how to love properly, that she could be the person everyone wanted her to be. That she could make her parents proud. She wanted to show everyone, that she was capable of doing all that: she could fall in love with a man, marry him, have kids, live a happy, full, normal life. She could be normal, she just had to try harder…

But that was futile, wasn’t it? She tried so hard, and it never came with positive results. All she did was trying, crying and screaming and bleeding to turn into that girl that was so distant, so alien- but so perfect, the goal she had to achieve. 

She could never be that girl.

’’I know.” Robbie said quietly, slipping off the bed and pulling on his shirt. Freddie watched him from the corner of her eye, looking for any sign of anger, disdain, anything she really deserved. All she could see was pity.

’’I’m gonna get some cigarettes, you want something?” Robbie asked after some silence, and Freddie shook her head. He nodded, turning on his heels to trod out to the bathroom, leaving Freddie alone with her thoughts.

She sat there, staring at the wall before her blankly until she heard the front door closing behind Robbie, and only then did she break down again, her face pressed between her knees as she sobbed. She wringed her hands in her hair, pulling on it until her scalp hurt, wanting to yank her brain out and stomp on it; or better yet, scrub it until it was clean from all those thoughts that constantly plagued her, that made her like this.

She wanted to get rid of the pretty eyes and the seductive smile.

_You filthy, filthy dyke._

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very appreciated, but not hate. If you clicked on this fic despite the warnings and the notes, and still attack me, I will materialize in your house and steal your kneecaps.


End file.
